


The Roommate: Deleted/Implied Scenes

by DoAsYouWill



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoAsYouWill/pseuds/DoAsYouWill
Summary: Deleted scenes/implied scenes from the story "The Roommate."Because "The Roommate" is in first person, there are a lot of scenes that are implied, but not actually seen. Most of those scenes I had partially written in case something changed, so I have a lot of writing just sitting in my folder, and I thought someone might like to read it.As long as you're caught up, no spoilers.
Relationships: Clyde Donovan/Bebe Stevens, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger, Token Black/Nichole Daniels
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	The Roommate: Deleted/Implied Scenes

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter: Thomas sits a 14-year-old Craig down and tells him a little something about Eli, (that may or may not have been falsified), that Craig didn't know.

“Hey, Craig?”

Craig looked up from the cardboard box that he was rummaging through, making room for more of his belongings. When he saw it was his father, standing in the threshold of his bedroom with the door knob still in his hand, he glowered, and looked back down, making a point to show his father that Craig wanted nothing to do with him. 

Thomas wasn’t dissuaded by Craig’s sophomoric response to a simple greeting. He took a few steps into Craig’s bare bedroom. All that was left was a bedside table, a mattress, some loose books, video games, and decorations that had been hanging around Craig’s room for years. Stacks of cardboard boxes were surrounding Craig, some of which were a little worse for wear. Craig hadn’t exactly been gentle when he was packing his stuff. 

“Can we talk?” Thomas asked. 

Craig huffed dramatically, and folded his arms over his chest, finally dragging his eyes up to his indifferent and calm father. “What do you want?” he hissed. “I’m in the middle of _packing_.” 

“I’ll leave you to it in a minute, but there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Thomas sat down on the hardwood floor, and gestured for Craig to sit with him. 

Craig glared, and the look in his eyes and his resolute posture told Thomas that Craig had no intention of listening to him. 

“It’ll only take a second. It’s important.” 

Craig looked him up and down. His anger was still very-much present, but a curiosity was growing on his face. After a few seconds, Craig hesitantly lowered himself to the floor and crossed his legs. His glare hadn’t lifted, but he didn’t say anything against his father. “What?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Eli --”

Before Thomas could continue, Craig shook his head quickly, put his palms on the floor, and made a move to stand up. “I don’t want to talk about Eli,” he snapped.

“But it’s something you need to know.” With a firm stare, Thomas gestured for Craig to remain sitting. 

As much as Craig wanted to not listen to his father, his dad was giving him the ‘listen to me or else’ expression, and he knew better than to go against that, so he remained on the floor. That didn’t mean he was happy about it, but he wasn’t cursing his father out, which, (after the fight the two had had a couple months prior to that afternoon), Thomas considered to be a small victory. 

“I know you two are close,” Thomas began. “And this might . . . upset you, but I don’t want you to be mad at him.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “I could never be mad at Eli.”

Thomas’ eye twitched, but he ignored Craig’s determined response. “I went to Stark’s Pond yesterday,” Thomas began. “I used to go there a lot when I was a kid. My dad used to take me fishing --”

“That’s fantastic, but what does this have to do with Eli?” Craig asked flatly, folding his arms over his chest with an unimpressed glare. 

Thomas huffed, but didn’t address Craig’s irritation. “I wanted to say goodbye to Stark’s Pond. I know I’m going to miss it when we leave.”

Craig narrowed his eyes. “If you’re going to miss it, then why are we leaving?”

Thomas spoke right over Craig’s question, as if he didn’t ask it. “Eli was there.”

When nothing was attached to the statement, Craig asked, “Okay? Eli likes Stark’s Pond. He writes there all the time.”

“He wasn’t alone.”

That made Craig pause. Because Stark’s Pond was always his special spot with Eli, he didn’t take kindly to the fact that Eli was with someone else there that wasn’t him. “Well, who was he with? Was it his dad or something?” That was the only alternative that made sense. Eli didn’t really have any friends other than Craig, and Eli hated his mother, so his father was the only plausible option. 

Thomas sighed. “No. It was another kid.” He paused for dramatic effect. “He was about your age. Just a little shorter than you. They were, um.” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck, and felt the lie slap a blush to his cheeks. “Hugging. They looked happy.”

Craig’s heart dropped to his stomach. Of all the things his father could’ve said to him, that was the last he expected. He let the information sink in, sitting in silence for a few seconds, before he shook his head, and snapped, “I mean, so? I don’t own Eli. He can do whatever he wants.”

“I heard them talking,” Thomas continued. He could see the devastation slowly crossing Craig’s face, but he knew that it was necessary. “They were talking about how much they like each other.” To a practiced eye, this statement was so obviously a lie, but Craig wasn’t practiced. He was trusting. Even though he was furious with his father, he still trusted him. “And . . . Eli called him . . .”

Craig waited a few seconds, and, when his father didn’t finish his sentence, he asked, “What did he call him?”

“Craig, I don’t want you to be mad at Eli --”

“I don’t care -- what did he call him?” Craig’s voice dropped all pretense, and adopted an urgency that hadn’t been there before. 

“He called him Cobalt.”

Craig’s eyes widened, and, before he allowed his dad to see the emotion welling up, he turned his gaze to his hands. “But . . . but that’s what Eli calls _me_.” He spoke quietly, almost like he didn’t mean to say anything at all. Like his emotions were too overwhelming for him to even be able to try to keep them to himself. 

“I bumped into Eli’s dad yesterday,” Thomas continued as if Craig hadn’t said anything. “He was telling me about some other kid Eli’s been hanging out with. Apparently they’re getting to be really good friends. He says they disappear into Eli’s room for hours.”

Craig swallowed thickly. His face was heating up and his heart pounded in his chest; he wasn’t entirely sure why he was reacting so extremely to what his father was telling him, but all he knew was that the sensation he was feeling sucked royally. He simultaneously hated his father for telling him that, and wanted to hear every little detail. He was desperately trying to cling to his dignity, but the new information he had just learned _hurt_. “Well . . . I mean, I don’t care.” 

It was obvious to Thomas that Craig cared a great deal, and, judging by the slight wince on Craig’s face, it was obvious that Craig knew he wasn’t being as inconspicuous as he meant to be. 

“You were only just friends with Eli, right? Nothing more?” Thomas tried to make his voice an equal amount of ‘accusing’ and ‘gentle inquisition’. He wasn’t sure if he expressed it well enough, because Craig’s face was already twisted in an emotion that Thomas had never seen on him before. 

Craig jerked his eyes up. The emotion on Craig’s face that Thomas was trying to analyze intensified when Thomas could see Craig’s eyes. It was so different, so powerful. Thomas didn’t know what it was, and part of Thomas thought that maybe Craig didn’t know what it was either. “Yeah. We weren’t . . . we were just friends. It’s . . . ew.” His voice was lacking the disgust that it would have had had Craig sincerely meant what he was saying. 

Thomas was quiet for a few seconds. “What has Eli said to you?”

Even though it was quite impossible for Craig to return to the rage he had felt at the beginning of their conversation, he hardened at the probing question. He had no desire to divulge anything related to Eli at all to his father. “That’s none of your business.”

“Has he told you he likes you?”

The question sent a blush to Craig’s face. The embarrassed expression was enough of an answer for Thomas, but still Craig tried to reject what his father was saying. “No. That’s weird. Guys don’t say that to each other.”

Because it was obvious that that was a lie, Thomas responded, “Well if he _did_. He didn’t mean it. He doesn’t actually know what he’s talking about. You shouldn’t trust it.” He paused. “It’s a phase. He’ll get over it eventually.”

Every word that left his father’s mouth stabbed a knife into his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Kids like Eli . . . they’re just experimenting. He was with you for longer than I was expecting. Kids like him don’t usually stick around with someone for that long.”

“What do you mean ‘kids like Eli’?” 

Thomas gave his son an obvious stare. “You know what I mean, Craig.”

Craig bit his lip and hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to continue talking or not, because, as it was going, it seemed to be a moot point. “But it can’t be a phase. He’s not just experimenting.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Eli didn’t just decide to be --”

Thomas’ gentleness dropped and he gave his son a firm glare. “It’s a choice Eli made, and it was the wrong one.” 

Craig stared wide-eyed at his father. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. 

“You do know that, right?” his father asked. “You know it’s a choice?”

It took several long, painful seconds, before Craig could find his voice. “No. It’s not.”

Craig and Thomas stared at each other, both for very different reasons, and with eyes filled with very different emotions. Thomas was trying to chase any . . . alternative feelings that may have resided in Craig’s chest away. He was trying to use his Father Powers, (really, just his stern, intimidating gaze), to ~~force~~ coax Craig into believing him. 

Craig, on the other hand . . . well, he was more scared than he was willing to admit. So many things were happening inside of him that he couldn’t choose which thought to believe. He was a whirlwind of emotion on the inside, and on the outside, he was struggling to stand up for himself. Craig knew the truth; whatever his father said, Craig knew he was wrong. 

But he couldn’t find it in himself to say that.

No one was deemed a ‘winner’ of the staring contest, but Thomas was the one to end it, with a shake of his head. “You’re too young. You’ll understand it better when you’re older.”

“But I’m not that young,” Craig insisted, his voice gaining traction. 

“You’re young enough,” was Thomas’ dismissive response. He wasn’t too keen on continuing that part of the conversation. It was too sensitive; he was more likely than any other topic to start another fight, and Thomas wanted to avoid that, so he moved on. “You know that when we move, it’s going to get hard keeping up with Eli. And all your other friends.” The last part was tagged on when Thomas realized that he probably shouldn’t focus too much him. “I don’t want to see you get sad when your friends stop talking to you. When you can’t see your friends whenever you want to, it gets hard to keep talking to them. It won’t be worth it.”

Craig sighed. As much as he hated it, and as much as it hurt him to think about, he knew that what his father was saying was true. Things were going to fade to a stop, slowly, and watching a friendship end in a dragged out fashion was way worse than it just exploding and disappearing. “I know,” he agreed reluctantly. That part he could understand. It was literally every other word that left his father’s mouth that confused him.

“Good,” Thomas responded, climbing to his feet with a grunt. “Dinner’s gonna be ready in about ten minutes. Your mother’s making spaghetti.”

As soon as the door closed behind Thomas, Craig dropped his chin into his propped up palm, his legs still criss-crossed in front of him. His thoughts were very loud, and his chest was churning painfully. He felt like crying, but he didn’t. He wanted to be around his friends, and he wanted to be alone. He wanted to see Eli, and demand to know if his father was telling the truth, and he wanted to avoid Eli forever, because . . . what if his father _was_ telling the truth? What if Eli really was gearing up to leave him?

There wasn’t a single thing he could decide on, because he was having trouble getting his mind in order. 

Craig gave up on packing. He would finish that tomorrow. 


End file.
